


Outside Turn

by Svartalfur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svartalfur/pseuds/Svartalfur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus doesn't like to see his lover of ten years in the arms of another man, even if all they do is ballroom dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside Turn

  
_The term is applied to an individual turn of a partner in the couple. Basically, it denotes the turn directed "outside" of the couple. The meaning is intuitively clear, but it may be performed in numerous ways and in different handholds, so that even accomplished dancers are confused._

[Wikipedia, Glossary of Dance Moves](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_dance_moves)

 

Together, they were beautiful. The rays of the afternoon sun caressed Draco's hair and highlighted the silver stars on Harry's robes - robes that Severus had given him for his birthday. Dust motes surrounded the couple like an entourage, floating to and fro in harmony with the dancers.

Severus closed his eyes. He had no wish to see his lover of ten years - _nine years, eleven months, twenty-three days and approximately seventeen hours_ , the voice in his head, being singularly unhelpful, provided - in the arms of another man, even if ballroom dancing was all they did.

And why did it hurt so much, Severus wondered, that he hadn't known about Harry's dancing skills? Severus had never made a secret of how much he enjoyed dancing, but Harry, always cheeky, had never failed to divert him whenever he'd brought it up. Severus only had to mention his love for Tango, Salsa or Cha Cha, and Harry would seduce him, claiming that their activities were 'the oldest dance of all'.

 _Fool!_ spat the voice in Severus's head.

When Severus opened his eyes again, the dancers were gone. The sun had been swallowed by a dark cloud, and the old man who looked back at him from the Malfoy Manor ballroom window - silver strands of hair mixed with greasy black and more harsh lines than Severus could count - scowled. Severus scowled back. These days, he didn't recognise himself. He Disapparated when the first raindrop splashed on his head.

* * *

Dinner was uneventful, Harry his usual cheerful self. Severus noticed that the laughter lines around Harry's eyes had become deeper. They made him even more beautiful. Concentrating hard to silence the running commentary inside his head, Severus reached for the salt shaker.

Harry caught Severus's hand in his. "You could petrify a basilisk with your stare. Are you okay?"

Harry's hand was cool and steady, and Severus wanted nothing more than to bring it to his lips and kiss it. Instead, he crushed it between his potion-stained and unrelenting fingers. Harry looked at him with a strange expression in his eyes. The Snitches on his threadbare robes flitted about in irregular patterns.

"Look what a mess you are," Severus said. "Can't you wear something nice for a change? What about the robes I gave you for your birthday?"

Harry blushed. "But," he said, struggling against Severus's vice-like grip, "they ... they're dress robes. For special occasions."

Severus abruptly released Harry's hand. _Didn't I tell you so?_ the voice in his head mocked. Harry's hand crashed on the table. Salt spilled between them. _Cuckold! Foolish old fart!_

* * *

Severus went to bed early. When Harry entered their bedroom hours later, he pretended to be asleep. Harry's feet were like lumps of ice against his shin, but Severus didn't flinch. Over the years, he'd got used to the sensation. He wondered if he'd miss it.

The weight of Harry's head on his chest, that he knew he would miss, and the warm breath caressing the bend of his neck.

* * *

A week passed, and Severus still hadn't discussed the state of their relationship with Harry. The Malfoy Manor ballroom scene was imprinted on his retina in such detail that he didn't need a Pensieve to revisit it. All he had to do was close his eyes and he'd be standing in front of the window again with his nose pressed against the pane, cold fear crushing his heart and paralysing him.

Severus kept himself busy scheming. There were several potions to be considered. Only three drops of Foetor Potion dissolved in Firewhisky would make Harry's breath smell like Thestral manure for at least ten years. A spoonful of Pumilus added to Harry's beloved pumpkin stew would shrink his cock about three inches, and Pestis Verde, applied manually, would turn it green.

There were a whole lot of spells to choose from, too, of course. Severus's favourite was a variety of the Furnunculus hex he'd invented when he was a student. It made boils that formed the words _PROPERTY OF SEVERUS SNAPE_ appear on the victim's chest. The slightest touch would make them fester and stink.

However well he was prepared for a truly spectacular celebration of their tenth anniversary, the voice in Severus's head wouldn't stop nagging him. _Coward_ , it said, over and over again. Severus was adamant he would not talk things out with Harry, though. There was nothing more ridiculous than a jealous old queen, and he refused to be turned into a laughing stock.

 _Isn't it rather amusing that Harry was right about you all those years ago? You really_ are _the world's biggest coward!_

"Shut up!"

* * *

Everything was ready; Firewhisky was waiting on the occasional table in front of the fireplace, a vial of Pestis Verde was sitting next to the lube in the bedside table drawer, and pumpkin stew was simmering on the stove. Severus was practising Furnunculus Perscribo and didn't notice the barn owl at the open kitchen window. He only slipped a little when the bird landed on his shoulder. The pin-up on the fridge stuck his tongue out at Severus and started to scratch his bare chest. Severus wrinkled his nose at the sudden stink. Paying the owl with a piece of pumpkin peel, he took the scroll. It contained nothing but coordinates - _The game is afoot!_ \- and a smiley blowing him a kiss.

Severus rematerialized in the Malfoy Manor ballroom, wand at the ready. If Malfoy and Potter wanted to play this game, he wouldn't be the one losing it. He was greeted by applause and cheers. Three generations of Weasleys were raising their glasses to him, standing side by side with smiling Malfoys. Even Astoria was there, slapping Scorpius's head as he tried to swap his orange juice for champagne. Severus had died and gone to hell!

"Would you like to dance?"

Severus swivelled around. Luckily, this wasn't a Death Eater attack; he'd very nearly dropped his wand. Harry stood in the centre of the dance floor, a rose in his hand and a smile on his lips. He wore the dress robes with the silver stars.

"What's all this about?" Severus hissed between clenched teeth.

Harry took Severus's hands in his and pushed Severus's wand back up his sleeve. "Happy anniversary," he said, placing one of Severus's hands on his shoulder while slipping an arm around Severus's waist. "Do you like your surprise?"

The voice in Severus's head burst into mad laughter, and only with great difficulty did Severus manage not to join in. "Idiot," he said. "Even an imbecile like you should know by now how much I hate crowds. What do you think?"

They were moving across the dance floor now, and Severus was surprised how easily they'd found a rhythm together. "Wait," Severus added, but the jibe came out half-heartedly, "of course you didn't think at all."

Harry spun Severus around in a complicated movement. "There was no way to exclude our friends from celebrating," he explained. "Molly and Narcissa had everything planned before they even contacted me. I thought you'd enjoy dancing, though."

"So this is what your trysts with Draco were about."

"He taught me how to dance. Said it was a tough job, and that he only bothered with me because of ..." Harry stopped abruptly, stepping on Severus's foot. "You knew? How? For how long?"

"I followed you last week after Ginevra Firecalled and let it accidentally slip that you weren't, in fact, teaching her spawn Quidditch at the Burrow," Severus said. "Why did you wear dress robes if you were just practising?"

"I had to learn not to trip over the hem." Harry showed Severus what he'd learned, and Severus had to admit to himself that he was impressed. They danced in silence for a while.

"Tell me," Harry said, receiving Severus back in his arms after an outside turn, "what nasty surprises do you have prepared for me? Did you poison the Firewhisky? Add itching powder to the lube?"

Only a few people had ever managed to dumbfound Severus, and Harry was the only one Severus allowed close enough to do it more than once. "How do you know?" he asked.

Harry chuckled. "Remember when I was trying out as Seeker for Puddlemere United and met with Oliver Wood to negotiate the offer?"

Severus nodded against Harry's shoulder, slightly ashamed, but content in Harry's embrace.

"I couldn't get rid of the green-and-silver pimples for over a month." Harry dipped Severus into a passionate kiss.

Applause broke out, and the voice in Severus's head muttered inane commentaries. Yet, when Severus closed his eyes, there was only Harry, and he knew that - harsh lines and greasy locks be damned - together, they were beautiful.


End file.
